


Stay With Me

by LadyOxymoron



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e10 Erchomai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 12:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOxymoron/pseuds/LadyOxymoron
Summary: Spilled blood, bad coffee, and wordless conversations.





	Stay With Me

When the doorbell started to ring, Magnus was still in the shower. He barely heard it, the sound muffled by the hot water hammering upon his skin and washing him clean, taking some of his sorrow down the drain along with the grime and the ashes from Edom.

The skin of his hands and forearms ached as he rubbed it almost raw and yet, Magnus kept rubbing and rubbing and rubbing it before realizing the ring of the bell meant he had to cut his shower short. He toyed with the thought of ignoring it, sighing as he remembered Alec had left his keys home. Magnus had seen them sticking out of the pocket of Alec’s  jacket when he had gotten back from the Institute.

After the events of the last twenty-four hours, leaving Alec there was the last thing he had wanted to do but Alec had needed to fill out some reports and Magnus had been in need of a hot shower and some time on his own to process everything.

Lilith had been defeated but the price they had had to pay had been too great to celebrate the victory. In a way, each one of them had lost something. A lover, a friend, a family member, a comrade.

Magnus had almost lost Alec, among other things. It had also costed him his magic but he couldn’t afford to dwell on the loss of his powers just yet. The wound was still too fresh, its seams pulling and struggling to break open and spill on the floor all of what was left of himself.

It had been a long night, sitting by Alec, watching him struggle between life and death as the healers and Catarina worked on him. It had been an even longer morning, watching in increasing frustration as Alec started to get back to full Head of the Institute mode without even having the time to recover from his wound.

Everyone had needed a piece of Alec and Magnus had watched him be the son, the brother, the friend, the leader.

The boyfriend, they both knew, would come into play later. When both of them would be within the sanctuary of the loft and Alec would get to be just Alec again.

Magnus had done his best to be there for Alec, to be supportive. But as much as he hadn’t wanted to let Alec out of his sight, there were things that needed to be done and when Catarina had offered to open a portal for him, he had begrudgingly accepted.

The sound of the doorbell cut through his train of thoughts. It was more insistent now. It was a long, harsh, buzzing sound, grating on Magnus’ already frayed nerves.

He turned the water off and kept staring at his hands. They were clean, every trace of blood long gone. Magnus blinked, realizing it had been gone for hours but it was barely starting to sink in.

 _I am not in shock,_ Magnus thought as he grabbed a towel from the cabinet and wrapped it around his hips.

 _I am perfectly calm,_ he thought as he started to walk toward the door, leaving small puddles of water in his path.

Magnus was not in shock. Magnus was perfectly calm but he started to breathe again only when he opened the door and Alec was right there in front of him. In one piece.

Alec looked like death. Weariness and pain had etched lines on his handsome features, the bag under his eyes were deep-set and dark. But he was there, alive and breathing and it was all that mattered to Magnus.

When Alec leaned over to kiss him, lips chapped and dry against his own, Magnus was surprised to not taste blood.

Alec pulled back and looked him over, the faintest hint of a smile curving his lips. “Do you always open the door like this?”

“Only for special people, my dear,” he answered with a wink and a small smile of his own, glad to notice his lips were cooperating.

Alec walked past him with a huffed laugh and headed toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Please.” he heard himself say, proud of the way he managed to keep the dread out of his voice, well aware the coffee would taste as horrible as it did every time Alec made it.

He briefly considered to go and wear something, the thought of having coffee clad in just a towel a little unsettling. In the end, he decided against it. The world wouldn’t come to an end if he didn’t keep up the pretenses, especially in front of Alec.

And what a testament to his exhaustion that was, he thought with a self-deprecating smile. He didn’t fool himself into thinking his defense mechanisms wouldn’t kick in as soon as he’d have the time to properly process. But right now everything was so raw, every single nerve singed and exposed and he didn’t have the energy to fight a war with himself.

He shrugged and took a seat on the couch, the sounds coming from the kitchen comforting in their familiarity. The sound of the cabinet opening and closing, the buzz of the coffee maker, Alec’s low curse as he burnt his fingers with the scalding coffee.

All of it kept Magnus grounded but it was not enough to keep his mind from wandering once more to the previous day’s events.

Edom. His father. His magic. The Owl. The dark alley.  Clary. Alec bleeding out on the dirty floor.

Everything was blurred in his mind, all of it coming together to create a hollow ache right in the middle of his chest, pressing steadily against his ribcage with every breath he took.

What haunted him the most was the metallic smell of blood. Alec’s blood gushing out of the wound, all over Magnus’ hands, warm and sticky and terrible. And no matter how many times he had washed it off, if he focused hard enough, he could still feel it sticking to his fingers.

“Here you go,” Alec said, placing a cup on the coffee table in front of him, his voice bringing Magnus back to reality.

“Thank you.” He took the cup with both hands and brought it to his lips, taking a tentative sip. “This is good.” The lie came easily to his lips, even though the coffee tasted as sour and awful as usual.

Alec took his seat on the armchair across from Magnus and grimaced as he took a sip of his own. “Liar.”

Alec was right there in their living room, sipping godforsaken coffee but all Magnus could see was all the blood seeping from his wound, painting his skin red.

It was deeply unsettling. Out of all the memories they shared, out of all the time spent together, the long talks, the kisses, all of the times they had made love, all Magnus could bring forth in his mind was the memory of Alec bleeding out. It was branded in his mind like a vivid picture. It was clear like a window on the past. And the glass was so clean that he could make out every little detail.

“It’s awful,” he admitted, gripping the cup tighter.

“I know.” Alec placed his cup down on the coffee table with another grimace and gestured toward the kitchen. “I think there must be something wrong with that thing.”

They were both avoiding to talk about it, Magnus was aware of it. He was almost tempted to push the issue but he knew nothing good could come out of a confrontation born out of exhaustion and Magnus thought it could wait until they had some rest and some time to put things into perspective.

Too many things had happened at once and he didn’t have the energy to deal with any of them. Not yet.

 _I’ve almost lost you,_ he wanted to scream.

“There’s a reason I don’t let you anywhere near the coffee maker, darling,” he said instead, the familiar banter coming easily to his lips.

The pretense of outrage lingered only for a few seconds on Alec’s face, soon fading into wary amusement. He nodded, a serious look creeping in his eyes as if he was acknowledging what was not being said and thanking Magnus silently for it.

They both knew that they’d have to talk eventually, but not now. Now it was just easier to pretend that Alec hadn’t almost died less than twenty-four hours ago. It was easier to pretend Magnus was still whole.  

It was easier to make small talk about coffee and communicate in the space between spoken words.

All that mattered was that the blood was gone from Alec’s chest, that it was gone from Magnus’ hands. That Alec was home, safe, _there_ . That he was _not_ spilled blood in an alley but he was flesh and bones and soul and sitting in front of Magnus.

And Magnus couldn’t help himself any longer. He reached out and placed his hand on the back of Alec’s head, bringing him close, drawing him into a forceful, desperate kiss. And he didn’t care if it was a little too fierce or a little too desperate to be considered a proper kiss. He didn’t care if the forcefulness of their coming together was enough to make his teeth rattle.

All he cared about was that Alec was kissing him back just as fiercely, giving back as much as he was getting.

He was sure the impact must have hurt Alec because he could feel some of the pain himself but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. And Alec took it in stride. He kept kissing Magnus back with the same need, as desperate for it as Magnus was. He bit Magnus’ bottom lip and swallowed up the noise of pain -of need?- he made with the fierce press of his lips.

They couldn’t stop kissing each other. They kept kissing and kissing and kissing even when Magnus tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue and couldn’t tell who of them was bleeding.

He thought that in some ways, both of them were.

There was something desperate about the way Alec pushed his tongue inside of Magnus’ mouth, about the way Magnus’ hands fisted the fabric of Alec’s shirt.

Every touch, every brush of their tongues, the clash of their teeth. All of it screamed _I’m here_ and _don’t leave me_ and _I love you_. All of it was finding each other again, making sure the other wasn’t going anywhere.

“You promised,” Magnus rasped when they pulled back to breathe, forehead to forehead. He didn’t need to say what. Alec knew. They both did.

“I meant it,” Alec replied, voice rough and low, breath warm and tickling against Magnus’ lips. “I’m here.”

Magnus’ hands tightened around Alec’s shirt, fingernails scraping against Alec’s back as he pulled him into another deep kiss. It tasted like blood and like bad coffee and underneath it all it tasted like Alec, like relief.

And Magnus clung to Alec with all he had, determined to not let go. Never let go. Because his past may have taught him that you always lose everything and everyone in the end, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to fight for Alec.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my last post 3x10 ficlet. I'm excited we'll have new content soon. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. :) 
> 
> (if you want to say hi, I'm on twitter @ladyoxymoron)


End file.
